


Most Faithful Mirror

by dynamicsymmetry



Series: Pacify [10]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3408968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dynamicsymmetry/pseuds/dynamicsymmetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are progressing very well with this whole Thing. Extremely well. So well, in fact, that Daryl thinks it might be a nice idea to put on a little show. You know. For anyone who happens to wander by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Most Faithful Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> It's cold and snowy out, so hey, smut is warming. 
> 
> Again, not necessarily a prerequisite to read the rest of the series, but at this point for characterization reasons I would advise it. If you care about that kind of thing. Something _is_ sort of going on here.
> 
> Title from [Massive Attack's "Teardrop".](https://youtube.com/watch?v=u7K72X4eo_s)

She knows he won't let her fall.

If he let go of her, she would. She would tip forward and her head would hit the window, and that would be bad. Very bad. Or she thinks that would happen; she's not sure, she's having trouble estimating distance, she's having trouble thinking straight at all, and her shoulders are aching and his hands are everywhere, and she's staring out at the lights on the street, one light very close, spilling across her body. Darkening the ropes where they're tied around her chest in a rough, simple harness. This is squeezing her breasts, making them bulge, her hands bound behind her back so they protrude even more. Making her feel tender, aching, exposed. 

All exposed. All over.

His fingers pushing into her, arm around her middle, and she can feel him smile against the back of her neck. Just a little hint of teeth.

"Bend. C'mon, girl."

His voice is low, practically a growl, more than a little harsh, but he's supporting her. Holding her. And between how completely _naked_ she feels and how every single part of her is sparking into bright little tingles when he thrusts two fingers into her, again... 

She feels safe. She always does. She also feels half crazy. 

She bends, curves her spine, presses her ass against him, and she bites her lip and wonders how long it's going to take for her to give in and beg him to fuck her. In front of this window. 

This window with the blinds open. 

"Daryl," she breathes, and her head droops forward. Christ, his fingers. They're big but they never feel like enough, and he's very purposefully not touching her clit, and she's giving in, she'd do anything he asked right now, anything he told her to do, but he is such a fucking asshole. "God... God, please, Daryl, don't..."

"Don't what?" Amused. Hoarse, also; she knows he wants her. Bad. This came as kind of a surprise - yet another thing she could tell he was vaguely nervous about, but now that they're going with it, doing it, now that he's _in_ it and he has her, she can tell he loves it. 

Putting her on display.

 _Don't._ She doesn't know. _Don't do this._

_Don't stop._

She shoves her ass backward, just a little aggressive now. Back against his fingers, rolling her hips, fucking herself on them. She knows what this is going to do, knows she's overstepping. She goads him sometimes. She won't deny it, and he knows it. She can't always be a good girl. Can't always be this obedient little pet she finds herself slipping into more and more, as a role she plays. 

She wants to be punished, sometimes. 

He freezes. Withdraws his fingers suddenly enough and hard enough that she winces. And he steadies her with that hand, smears her juices over her breast, hooks his fingers through the back of the harness, and she lets out a little cry as he jerks it and the ropes bite into her skin. 

He releases her, except for the rope. He's holding her by it, and she wobbles, almost falls, just manages to get her feet when his palm smacks against her ass hard enough that for a few seconds she doesn't even feel the sting. 

Then she does, huge and bright and burning, and she has to bite down on her tongue to keep from yelling. 

Before, he said he doesn't want to gag her. He wants to hear her make noise for him. But too much, and he will. And this will look like nothing compared to what he does to her then. 

He gives her a couple of seconds to catch her breath, then gives the harness another agonizing yank and she lets out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a choked sob - which cuts off when he smacks her again, and again, not as hard as that first time but hard enough to make her thighs shake, hard enough to push tears into her eyes. 

And she's so fucking wet. 

He stops, and he's still holding her by the harness but she feels his fingers moving to her cunt, probing her, slipping just barely into her. He makes a pleased little noise, and then - and she can tell he's rewarding her now, because that's what he does when she takes her punishment and she's good - he circles her clit with a slick fingertip, slow, light. Teasing. _I can give you more of this. Be good for me._

He wanted noise. She moans, heavy and thick, and it takes all her effort but she keeps her hips still. 

She's completely forgotten that anyone can see her like this. Just walk by and see her. 

Then she remembers and it shoves her toward the edge, and she actually panics. She can't. Not without his permission, and she knows it's not time yet. She whimpers again, tries not to twitch away. "Daryl- Please _please_ I'm gonna-"

His hand is gone and she whines, sags against the ropes. God, she is so far gone already. 

She does this. She noticed a while ago and still isn't sure what to make of it. Running with him before, weary and in pain and barely able to think coherently and focusing everything on him and staying with him and not fucking _dying,_ when they finally stopped and she could rest she would slip into this exhausted haze where things were almost peaceful. Hollow and awful, but she would forget everything from which they were running. Forget even her own body and how much pain she was in. How thirsty. How she was hungry beyond hunger. She would sit by the fire and stare dully into it, feel him close by, and to herself she seemed almost like a doll. Not herself at all. 

He would nudge her, give her the water bottle, grunt something monosyllabic at her, and she would come back to herself. But she actually learned to look forward to those periods of blankness, where she would sink into herself and be calm. Her body pushed to the limit, and she could let her mind drift away. 

This isn't like that. She's here, feeling everything he does to her, her nerves red-hot wires running all through her. Spiderwebs of pleasure and pain. But at some point she also starts to drift. Becomes pliant. That same kind of deep, peaceful calm. And after, when he holds her and strokes her and whispers to her, she comes slowly out of it like waking up bit by bit. She feels like she's found rest more profound than sleeping. 

She moans, writhes under what he does to her, whimpers and twists and even weeps, but always she has that calm. And he tells her to do things, and she does them. Even if she wanted to push back against him again now, resist, get him to punish her, she knows she couldn't.

He doesn't want her to come. She won't come. She'll warn him before she does.

He slides an arm around her middle and pulls her back against him, gentle, and he combs her hair back from her face and she can tell she's pleased him. She smiles.

"Good girl," he murmurs. "I gotcha. You're alright."

Movement across the street. Someone walking; she can't tell who, doesn't recognize them in the dimness. But they're there, and her breath catches in her throat. All they'd have to do is turn, look in their direction. See her, Beth Greene, who everyone knows has been through some serious shit but who's also this sunbeam, bright and happy. She sings, she loves kids, she knows she still has this kind of innocence about her that people like - even if it's not completely true anymore. They could turn and see her, naked and bound with Daryl Dixon looming behind her and pushing her legs further apart, and think...

What the fuck would they think?

_Not a good girl._

She hasn't been one since he bent her over and fucked her in the toolshed. Hasn't wanted to be.

But she is, she thinks, lost in that deep calm. She is. She's _his_ good girl.

Legs apart. Whoever it is, they're still moving. She holds her breath as his fingers slide into her again - three this time, stretching her hard enough for it to burn - and she's a little surprised to realize that she's almost disappointed. 

"Close call, huh?" Once more she can hear the smile in his voice as he fucks her with his hand, slow. "Yeah, you wanted him to see you. You fuckin' _know_ you did."

"Daryl," she breathes. Sometimes all she can manage is his name. But she makes an effort, because he's right, he's right, and she wants him _now,_ so bad she can't stand it. "Fuck me. Please, God, just... _Fuck_ me, please."

She used to have a hard time saying it. Now it's like she can't say it enough. 

"Thought I was." He's practically _grinning_ , and she wishes she could see his face. "Whatcha want?"

This... She shouldn't still have reservations. She shouldn't still struggle for things. But now and then she does, things are hard for her, and at some point she realized - or she suspects - that she was trying to keep it that way. That she didn't want things to be easy.

That she likes it when her face burns and she's almost - _almost_ \- ashamed. 

"Your cock," she whispers. " _Daryl._ "

Lips against her ear. The lightest edges of his teeth. "Huh?"

She shudders, almost sobs. "I want... Your cock. Please. God, Daryl, _please._ "

Little breath of a laugh, and she hears his fly unzipping. He shed his shirt a while ago, but when they do this, when she's naked, he likes to hold off on stripping completely, and she thinks she understands a little of why. Giving himself to her but not all at once, and then he's thrusting into her, not gradual or easy but hard and all at once, and she lets out a soft cry. 

Arm around her, hand cupping her left breast even as he bends her further. Twisting at her nipple. His other hand over her mouth, and she lets out a harsh, broken sound as he fucks her rough and slow and deep. 

No one outside. No one. Empty street, the ASZ all asleep except for the guards on the walls. But all of a sudden she's imagining a crowd of people out there, all of them staring at her, like she's an exhibit in a museum. Like she's on a stage. Looking at her, watching what's happening to her, murmuring to each other. Hands lifted to their mouths, a little shocked. 

Maybe not that shocked. She almost smiles, and she knows he can feel it under his palm. 

"What?" He's fucking her faster now, and she can tell by the shallow, panting quality of his breathing that he's not going to last all that long. "The fuck you smilin' at?" He gives her nipple a particularly vicious twist. "Look." 

She looks, briefly sure she _will_ see that crowd of people, but then she focuses, looks at the window, and she sees - in faint outlines - herself. Herself, hair damp with sweat and hanging around her face, jerking forward with every thrust, his hands on her. Holding her there.

"Look at you," he breathes, strained. "Fuckin' hell, just _look_ at you."

She looks. And all at once she's mouthing his name against his hand and he removes it and it falls from her lips in a rush of half-formed syllables, and she's begging him to let her come, _begging_ him, and he laughs as he presses his fingers to her clit and sends her rocketing up so hard it's almost painful. 

She doesn't scream. She wants to. She's sobbing, almost crying, as that calm swallows her whole. 

It's a haze, the rest of it. She has no idea how much longer it goes on. Suddenly he's not there anymore, hands turning her roughly around and shoving her to her knees, and she goes down in a loose half tumble, and she already knows what he wants. She tilts her head back and opens her mouth just in time as he spills into her, onto her tongue. Her lips. Running down her chin, hot and slick.

And everything in her just... lets go. 

He has her before she can crumple. He's fast and by now he knows what to expect. He kneels on the floor with her and holds her against him, one hand cupping the back of her head, and she leans against his chest and just feels herself breathing. Feels him breathe. Both of them gasping. 

Nothing for a little while. 

At some point he pulls back just enough to tilt her head gently up to his, and her eyes are only half open and it's difficult to focus but she knows he's searching her face, looking for any sign of trouble. Making sure. He always makes sure. 

He always takes such good care of her. 

"Beth?"

She nods. It's all she can manage. All she needs to do. 

He kisses her brow. Then, slow and careful, he cleans her face with his tongue.

She's vaguely aware of him untying her, lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the bed. He lays her down, strips off his pants, lies down naked beside her, pulls the covers up over them both and folds his arms around her. And she still pretty much can't move, but she can settle against him, tuck her head under his chin, and let herself drift with him wrapped around her. 

The blinds are still open. Soft light from outside, throwing his face into shadow. She can feel his gaze. 

In these moments she knows he worships her.

"Love you, Beth." Everything about him is gentle now. His hands. His voice. Since the very beginning they've always come back to this. "Love you so fuckin' much."

She smiles. She knows. Everything he does, he shows her. Every moment of every day. 

She's floating in that deep calm. She doesn't have to suffer like she did to find it, and it's so much better now. He carries her there, and he'll carry her out again. 

And yes. Part of her wants everyone to see.


End file.
